Reunion
by Stormcloud Empath
Summary: Formerly known as "Homecoming." Hawkeye calls on his old friends to bring him home after a car accident. As BJ is soon to find out, Hawk's leg isn't the only part of him that's broken. Eventual B-eye slash.
1. Chapter One

Disclaimer: MASH went off the air four years before I randomly decided to begin gracing this planet with my grating and abrasive personality. I have no stake in it and am contractually obligated to moan about having been so cheated.

Chapter One

BJ Hunnicutt blinked, shading his eyes from the California sunlight. BJ looked at the clock next to his recliner and groaned. He had hoped to sleep for at least another hour. Sighing, he rolled over, knowing he would not be able to sleep much longer but refusing to give up just yet. BJ squeezed his eyes shut, but had to concede defeat when there was a knock on the door. He sat up, noticing as he did so that his wife had already left, rubbed his eyes and called: "Come in."

Peg entered, looking everywhere but at him. "You've had a letter," she announced stonily. "I hope I didn't wake you."

"No, the sun beat you to it," BJ replied, forcing his voice to sound cheerful. "Who from?"

"Your old friend," she answered, walking towards him with her hand extended. "Hawkeye Pierce."

"Hawkeye?" BJ sat up straighter. He took the letter and stared at the postmark. There was no return address. "Salem, Massachusetts? What's Hawk doing there? He lives in Maine!"

Peg sat down on the bed, waiting quietly while BJ pored over the contents.

_Dear Beej,_

_They say doctors make the worst patients, and they are right. And since they already can't stand me, I figure causing a bit more trouble can't hurt. I'm writing to ask you and some other old friends to come and invade a hospital in Salem, MA. They can consider it payback for the state's awful road signs. I swear, Korean roads are more navigable._

_Coming slightly closer to the point, I was driving home two nights ago and somehow managed not only to get into an accident but also to break my leg. I spent most of the morning admonishing said leg for causing me such a terrible inconvenience. I can't drive, and I want to go home. They said I could go home now, but there remains one problem: who to pick me up. My father could, I'm sure, but I don't want to make him drive down here. Then I had an idea: Why not make the most of it, and have everyone come? There'd been talk of a five-year reunion anyway, and my friends in Crabapple Cove could finally meet all of you._

_I realize it's short notice, and I understand if you can't make it. The hospital's phone number is printed at the bottom of this stationery, so you can call and let me know. Say hi to Peg and Erin for me._

_Love,  
Hawk_

"Well?" Peg asked, squinting at BJ in the sunlight. "What's he got to say?"

BJ was still staring at the letter. It certainly was impromptu, but then, Hawkeye obviously hadn't planned on breaking his leg. BJ smiled at the mental image of Hawkeye writing in a daily planner: _Tomorrow – Break leg._ BJ checked the date of the postmark: Monday. Today was Thursday. If he wanted to accept the invitation, he would have to leave immediately. The Mill Valley hospital would not like that, but if he returned by Monday, or Tuesday at the latest, they would probably let it go. He had been their most reliable surgeon for the past five years, taking time off only to attend Erin's preschool and kindergarten performances and more than making up for it in overtime work. BJ chewed on his lip and looked up at Peg.

"Hawk was in car accident in Salem," BJ began carefully. "He's fine, but he broke his leg and can't drive home. He wants me, along with half the 4077th, to come and take him back to Maine. We'd been talking about getting together anyway, since it's been five years since the war ended, and I guess Hawk thought this was as good a time as any."

"It sounds like he's just desperate for company," Peg observed, frowning. "Still – maybe you should go."

Now it was BJ's turn to frown. "Peggy – you know I don't have to. Hawkeye will understand; he said as much. He also says hi to you and Erin, by the way. He knows I've got a family and a job and understands that I can't just run off across the country on one of his whims. If you don't want me to go – "

"I do, though," Peg interrupted, her expression one of emotionless resolve. "It might be for the best. Maybe we need time apart."

"Peggy – "

"BJ, think about it. You're sleeping in the recliner. There are problems, whether you admit it or not. It hasn't been easy for me, either, just so you know."

"Peggy, I love you."

"I want to believe you." Peg paused as a lump formed in her throat. "And I want to say it back. You know that. But we haven't really talked in months – years, even – it's like Erin is the only thing we have in common these days. A brief separation might give us a chance to clear our heads. I think it would be good – for both of us."

BJ felt a similar lump forming in his own throat as he matched her gaze. "Do you really believe that?"

Peg nodded. "Yes. Besides, it sounds like Hawkeye could really use a friend."

"Sure does," BJ agreed, feeling slightly worried now. "It's not like him at all. Hawk was always a reckless driver, but he knew where to draw the line." BJ's face darkened as a new suspicion dawned on him. "Good God, I hope he wasn't drunk."

"Do you think he'll admit it if he was?"

"I don't know. I'm sure he would if anyone else had been injured, but that doesn't seem to be the case. I sincerely doubt Hawkeye would have planned a homecoming party for himself if he'd hurt somebody while inebriated – he'd be too wracked with guilt. He is a doctor, after all."

Peg nodded again, her eyes unfocused. "I suppose you'd better call him, and start packing."

BJ nodded. "Hopefully I won't be gone too long."

"As long as Hawkeye needs you," Peg replied, staring disinterestedly at the wall. She stood up slowly, resolutely, and made her way out of the room. BJ watched her go with a flicker of sadness in his heart, then turned to the phone to call Hawkeye.

The connection was patchy at best, and the hospital receptionist was reluctant to connect to Hawkeye's room, but eventually she gave in and put him through. BJ waited, feeling the heat rising on his cheeks.

"Hello?" Hawkeye sounded tired, but his voice was unmistakable.

"Hey, Hawk," BJ answered, feeling suddenly more cheerful than he had in weeks. "Sounds like you got yourself into a quite a fix there. Didn't your father ever tell you not to play with scary automobiles?"

"Beej? Is it really you?" Hawkeye was yawning, but he was clearly excited. "Everybody, BJ's on the phone!" He was almost jubilant, but his voice quickly dropped to a more melancholy pitch. "But I'll bet you can't come, though. I know it's sudden, but I just thought – "

"Hold on, Hawk. I was just about to tell you that I talked it over with Peg, and we both agreed that I should come up for a bit. You're my best friend. You know that. And who's 'everybody'?"

"So you're really coming?" Hawkeye was almost pleading, scarcely willing to believe his ears.

"Yes. Now answer my question. Who's 'everybody'?"

"That would be Radar, Klinger and Father Mulcahy. The Father arrived last night; Radar and Klinger came in this morning; and Potter and Margaret both said they'd be in tomorrow. How about you?"

"Well, since I'm probably flying out tonight, put me in the tomorrow crowd. I'm surprised you amassed such a turnout."

"So am I. But I guess some people just can't resist a handsome doc in need – especially Klinger."

"Don't be too sure," BJ retorted, pleased to hear Klinger's screeching protest in the background.

"You want to talk to everybody? I'm sure no one will mind – "

"Dr. Pierce, I think you've assaulted our phone bill quite enough for one day," a nurse's cutting voice interrupted. "Besides, it's time you ate lunch."

"How does that compare to the Mess Tent?" BJ shouted as the connection was unceremoniously cut off. BJ sighed and decided he'd better pack. Though the circumstances were unfortunate, he was looking forward to seeing Hawkeye. He missed their banter. Though he was not prepared to relive the war for any price, he knew that his friendship with Hawkeye was one beautiful thing that had sprung from it. Hawk was one of a kind, and if he had not proven that in Korea, he had proven it every day since, as various people to whom BJ had once been close showed how little they had on Hawkeye.

BJ closed his eyes, insisting to himself that Peg did not, absolutely did not, belong in that category.


	2. Chapter Two

Disclaimer: MASH went off the air four years before I randomly decided to begin gracing this planet with my grating and abrasive personality. I have no stake in it and am contractually obligated to moan about having been so cheated.

Author's Note: I changed the title after discovering another MASH story called "Homecoming." Now that I think about it, there are probably hundreds.

Chapter Two

For the second time in as many days, BJ was rudely awakened by blinding sunlight. This time was undoubtedly worse, as he could not roll over to avoid it and he had an awful crick in his neck from sleeping on the plane. BJ shaded his eyes and checked his watch. He started at first when he saw how early it was, then remembered the time difference and reset it. Seven o'clock. Two more hours before they would land in Boston. BJ closed his eyes, but he knew better than to try to sleep.

BJ pictured Hawkeye in his mind and tried to imagine him with a broken leg. It didn't fit. Hawkeye treated injuries; he did not sustain them. The more BJ thought about the mysteriously unmentioned circumstances surrounding Hawk's accident, the more worried he became. Drinking and driving had been a joke, perhaps even an art, in Korea, but this, thankfully, was not Korea. BJ hoped that Hawkeye, being a doctor, would know better, but he could not help fearing that, for whatever reason, Hawkeye had been driving when he shouldn't have been.

BJ shifted and sat upright, admonishing himself for jumping to conclusions. He had no proof that the accident was anything but an accident, and he didn't want to mar their much-anticipated reunion with unfounded accusations. BJ closed his eyes again, forcing himself to concentrate only on the fact that, in a few short hours, he would be seeing Hawkeye.

His concentration was broken when the man in the aisle seat next to him awoke, unbuckled his seatbelt, and reached impolitely across both BJ and the sleeping woman on the end in a futile attempt to pull down the window shade. The man groaned obnoxiously and obviously, and the woman opened her eyes and turned to him.

"I'm sorry, sir, did you want me to close the window?"

"Oh, no, don't go straining yourself, I love it when my eyes burn and I can't see two feet in front of me. Of course I want you to close the window!"

The woman gave a disarming smile, but didn't move. She simply stared back at the man, who was growing more impatient by the second. "Well? Are you going to close it or not?"

The woman chuckled. "Not until you say 'please.'"

BJ laughed as the man on the aisle groaned. The "please" bit reminded him forcefully of Peg whenever Erin demanded a favor or a cookie or a glass of milk. BJ felt a pang in his heart as he thought of his wife and daughter back in Mill Valley. He winced as he remembered how he had bid them both goodbye at the airport. He had lifted Erin up and kissed her, promising her that her daddy would not be gone very long and that he loved her and would think of her every day. He and Peg had hugged, but only for a moment. He had not kissed her goodbye.

When the airplane finally landed, BJ was intensely relieved. He stretched his legs, the stiffness hitting him full force, and managed to disembark and collect his bags. He wandered towards the corridor to find an Exit sign when a familiar voice called out, "BJ! BJ, is that you?"

BJ whirled around and saw Margaret Houlihan waving her arms at him. "Margaret!" he shouted, and hurried toward her. They hugged briefly, smiling at each other. "We might have been on the same plane," he said, surprised but glad to see her.

"Who knows? I'm just glad you're here. Shall we get out of here while we still can?"

"Absolutely," said BJ. "Shall I take your suitcase?"

"No need, Captain, I'm just fine," Margaret answered, giggling as she added, "and yours looks heavier anyway."

BJ grinned and followed Margaret out of the airport. They decided to share a rental car and were soon on their way to Salem. BJ drove while Margaret acted as navigator, and before long he felt like he was back in Korea as Margaret bellowed furiously when none of the roads on the map seemed to correspond with anything. He remembered the comparison Hawkeye had made in his letter, and it seemed his friend had been right. Driving in Massachusetts was impossible. BJ relaxed suddenly as he realized that this fact alone could go somewhere towards explaining Hawkeye's accident – perhaps his suspicions really were as unjust as he hoped they were.

Margaret calmed down slightly once they left Boston and apologized to BJ for some of the many names she'd called him during the painful, ego-damaging fiasco. After only a few more wrong turns and uncertainties, they somehow managed to reach Salem intact. Margaret sighed as BJ opened the door to the hospital for her. They strolled up to front desk and were only nominally surprised when the weary receptionist sighed and rolled her eyes. "Let me guess – Pierce?"

They nodded, and she gave them directions. "Please say you're the last ones," she muttered as they began walking toward Hawkeye's room. BJ opened the door, and the room erupted in cheers.

Hawkeye was sitting up in bed, his broken leg elevated. Sherman Potter, Radar O'Reilly, Max Klinger and Father Francis Mulcahy were seated around him, and all five of them had broken into applause as BJ and Margaret stepped inside. Both of them hurried to Hawkeye's bedside and embraced him simultaneously. Hawkeye was grinning ear to ear as he put an arm around each of them, pulling them closer. BJ felt his cheek brush Hawkeye's, and was sure he felt some drop of moisture there. He and Margaret collapsed in a tangled mess on the floor, then managed to get up and embrace everyone else.

"We're all here," Father Mulcahy observed, once everyone had finished the round of hugging. "Well, all of us except – "

"Major Burns," Klinger finished for him. BJ opened his mouth to laugh, but then he noticed that Klinger wasn't laughing, and that, in fact, the Toledo fashionista looked somewhat tense.

"So, we're all here," Hawkeye said, eliciting a few awkward laughs from BJ, Potter and Radar. Before BJ could wonder what had just happened, Margaret quickly changed the subject.

"How are you feeling, Captain?" she asked, favoring Hawkeye with a sincere, concerned smile.

Hawkeye grimaced. "I'm in pain, Margaret, terrible pain," he intoned. "Any chance you could kiss it better?"

"Not on your life," Margaret retorted, but she laughed in spite of herself.

"Allow me," BJ said, and Hawkeye grinned at him. BJ bent down and kissed the plaster of Hawkeye's cast. Klinger laughed, and Radar simply stared.

Hawkeye looked deeply amused. "Actually, doctor, the break's a little further down." He pointed, and BJ brushed his lips where indicated. "Oh, thank you, doctor," Hawkeye cried in a voice even more melodramatic than the one he had used on Margaret. "I think I may walk again, thanks to your kindness!"

An impatient nurse stuck her head into the ward. "If you really think so, you and your party can check out any time."

Hawkeye shook his head. "A crackerjack nurse, but utterly unappreciative of my comic genius."

"Poor girl," Margaret said sympathetically.

"Forget about her, let's go!" barked Potter. "As your commanding officer, I think we have all been sitting here long enough!"

"Right you are, Dad," Hawkeye replied mischievously. "Cr – oh thanks, Radar."

"Any time, sir," Radar said, handing Hawkeye his crutches. "Shall we go now, please?"

"Follow me," Hawkeye proclaimed, hobbling toward the door. "I'd sing some opera for you, but they're operating down the hall."

"That's quite all right," said Potter, while Margaret fervently nodded her head. "Who's driving with whom?"

"Well, Margaret and I met up at the airport and decided to rent a car together," BJ explained to the group, "so I suppose we could take Hawk and lead the way. Would that work?"

"It should," Potter said thoughtfully. "Did anyone else rent a car?"

Radar, Klinger and Father Mulcahy shook their heads, and their commanding officer smiled. "In that case, you can all ride with me. I drove the whole way; Mildred nearly had kittens when she saw what they were charging for airfare."

That settled it, and after Hawkeye had officially signed out, they were ready to leave. BJ held the door for Hawkeye; Radar held it for everyone else.

"Either of you have a suitcase I could use?" Hawkeye asked as he followed BJ and Margaret to their rental car. They were walking slowly so that he could keep up. "To elevate my leg, I mean. And I can give directions from the backseat, though I can't promise they'll help on these roads."

"Is that a warning not to blame you when we get lost?" BJ asked casually, turning around to look at Hawkeye.

"We're not going to get lost!" Margaret shouted, sounding every inch the Major she had been.

"If it makes you feel any better, Margaret, Colonel Potter will be getting lost, too," Hawkeye said with a grin.

"No, he won't, because he's following us!"

BJ smiled. "Go ahead and use my suitcase, Hawk."

It took both BJ and Margaret to maneuver Hawkeye onto the seat and to situate him properly, an opportunity for jokes of which Hawkeye took full advantage, prompting an infuriated Margaret to almost drop his broken leg. Somehow, though, the three of them managed to get on the road, their friends right behind them, bound for Crabapple Cove.

Hawkeye was on his way home.

Author's Note: I am from Illinois, thirty minutes or so out of Chicago. By this I mean to say that I am not from California. I know that it's a big place, and that Mill Valley and Fort Ord, which I think is Margaret's hometown, could be hundreds of miles from each other, thus making it unlikely that BJ and Margaret would have been on the same plane. Still, they are both flying from the West Coast to Boston and could very easily meet up at the airport, regardless of how close (geographically speaking) they really are. If anyone wants to lecture me on California geography to help me clean up that scene, I am willing to listen. Also, as you can see, I am not from Massachusetts either. But I have been there, and I can assure you that my assertions about driving there are based in fact – if I were just looking for a state to piss on, I would not choose the most reliably Democratic state in the country!

Finally, many warm thank you's go to Jean and Kink2 for your kind reviews.


End file.
